


Oh, Toby.

by orphan_account



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Heartbreak, Implied Johnlock, Johnlock - Freeform, Pining, Sherlolly - Freeform, implied off-stage sherlolly, implied past relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-15
Updated: 2013-03-15
Packaged: 2017-12-05 08:31:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/721001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Molly talks to Toby, trying to convince him that she's not as stupid as she thinks she is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Oh, Toby.

**Author's Note:**

> Molly nor Toby nor Sherlock nor John are mine. I'm just being a jerk to them.

I know what people think of me, Toby. Well, I assume they know, because I know what _I_ think of me. It’s easy to see, I suppose, what they see. But if they knew what _we_ knew, what _we_ see in Sherlock Holmes, then maybe they wouldn’t pity me so much. Maybe they’d see that... that I’m not completely hopeless.

How often do I come home to you, Toby-- every day, I know, don’t look at me like I’m an idiot. Let me finish. But how often do I come home to you, my precious boy, and start gushing like an idiot over that man? I know he takes advantage of me, of my soft spot for him. I know that when he smiles, he doesn’t mean it. I know the sweet things he says sometimes aren’t true, or they are true but he’s just so... so clinical about it. I know. I know, I know, I know, my pretty boy. But I still lo-- I still feel as though he might say them for the same reason I like to hear them. Nostalgia. As a reminder. A cruel reminder, but maybe he’s not meaning to be cruel.

And that’s the clincher, isn’t it Toby? I could maybe try to ignore him, to not let these things get to me. But you remember, don’t you pretty boy? You remember. I came home from work that day and I was just an idiot. Giddy and stupid, I kicked your water dish over and splashed it all over your face, didn’t I? You scratched me for that. I don’t blame you.

And then I disappeared for a while. I still feel so bad about that, my beautiful boy. I’m sorry. I don’t think you even noticed, did you? I came back just to feed you and water you and clean your cat pan and then I’d leave again. I’m sorry.

God, he was gorgeous. I mean, he still is, Toby. He is only getting more gorgeous these days, he’s growing his hair, and it’s all these big heavy curls. He’s put on a bit of weight too, since that guy moved in with him. That guy. Oh Toby... Toby I want to blame John. I want to blame him. I want to hate him and I want to blame him and I want to just **scream** at him. But it’s not his fault. Sherlock told me it was a one time thing, long before John ever showed up. He told me. I knew it was, and then he said he’d delete it all and... and I wonder if he did.

How long was I gone for, Toby? A week? Two weeks? It’s silly; I can’t remember. I don’t know how long I was gone for, since I just... I hold onto these memories for all I’m worth but I don’t even know how long they last. He was so sweet, and the biggest jackass I'd ever known. But I got to have him, all to myself. Even for just a little while, he was mine and I was his.

So, maybe they think I’m an idiot, that I’m hopeless for pining. Maybe I am. Maybe it was all a big show. I don’t think it was. But when he’s kind to me, when he smiles at me, or compliments me, or is in the same room as me, all I can think about is... is our time together. Just him and me. And what a colossal arse he is.

If John get’s even a fraction of what I had with him, Toby... then he’s a lucky man indeed.

**Author's Note:**

> I can't write happy Sherlolly. I want to do an audio-recording of this, but I don't have the equipment available as my computer is currently on the fritz. 
> 
> Written for ThisSideofDangerous for her birthday. I feel bad, writing such a sad little story as a birthday present. But I just... can't write it as a happy ship.


End file.
